


Lost and Bleeding

by neversleeps



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Biting, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neversleeps/pseuds/neversleeps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 4x15. Elena feels empty, and she can't handle it. And there's only one person who can help her. On her own terms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Bleeding

**Author's Note:**

> "If I can't feel, I'm not mine,  
> I'm not real.  
> Evanescence, "The Only One"

She feels empty.

She’s so used to holding onto her emotions that now that they are buried deep inside her soul, she feels like somebody pushed her into water, having never taught her how to swim. It’s scary, but if only she holds on these first minutes (hours? days?) it’ll get easier. She’s sure of it.

All the feelings are still there, just a little out of reach, and it would be too easy (it’s too tempting) to let them rush back in, welcome the familiar pain like an old friend.

A friend that’s going to kill her.

She needs to fill that void with something. Anything.

She approaches the shower almost soundlessly, shedding her clothes on the way. Damon may understand her or not right now, but he usually knows exactly what she needs, even when she doesn’t know it herself.

Stepping into the shower, she puts her hands on his shoulders and makes him turn around. His skin is soft and slippery with soap, the sensation burns her palms and coils low in her belly. She smiles at his confused expression, because he wants to ask her a question while she’s already found the answer.

“Have sex with me,” she says, and Damon frowns, like he’s doubting her sanity. She can’t blame him. Logically, sex should be the last thing on her mind right now. Maybe it is.

“Elena-” he starts, but she cuts him off.

“I need you.”

Her hands slide up his chest and she wraps her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies close as she kisses him. While she focuses on the heady sensation of his tongue moving with hers, the void within her gets a lot easier to ignore.

“I need to feel,” she adds, “but I don’t want to.” Damon nods. She doesn’t even need to explain what she means, and it’s very convenient.

His hands slide along her wet skin, caressing her belly, flattening against her breasts, tracing the length of her spine and the curve of her lower back. She arches into him, half-expecting him to take her already, because he wants her and he can surely feel how ready she is for him.

Instead, he takes his time. His mouth drops to her breasts, tracing the outline, tongue darting out to taste the sensitive skin. By the time his lips close around one hardened peak, she’s trembling and her legs can’t be trusted to support her any more.

Every inch of her skin is ablaze, but it’s not enough, she realizes. The void is still there, too numb, too uncomfortable. For a brief moment, she almost believes it’ll always be there, and she claws at Damon’s shoulders, wrapping one leg around his waist.

“More,” she commands.

Damon grabs her thigh and slams her into the shower wall. His grip borders on painful, but it’s exactly what she needs. His lips crash against hers just as she manages to slip a hand between them and guides him inside her.

Damon sets a brutal, almost punishing rhythm. Her hips buck to meet every thrust as she tries to forget all about the void and concentrate on the way he’s moving inside her, or on his hands still bruising her hips, or on his tongue sliding against hers, but suddenly, she can’t. 

It’s too much like those times they were together, except it’s completely different. Because now they are not making love (she can’t feel love), they’re just fucking, and she feels emptier than before.

She should have never come here.

Damon pulls back to look into her eyes, but she closes them, as if in pleasure. She knows for sure Damon will understand it and pretend to believe her, even though the overwhelming emptiness is the only thing she feels right now. Damon bends to press his lips to her neck, and his moves get faster, more erratic just before he comes, groaning her name against her pulse point.

And just like that, Elena suddenly knows what she needs.

“Bite me,” she commands, holding his head to her neck.

“It’s not going to solve anything, you know,” he whispers. “Get you off? Maybe. But the emptiness isn’t going anywhere.”

She thinks she shouldn’t even be surprised he knows.

“Bite me,” she repeats, and Damon smiles against her skin.

He slips out of her and pulls back, tracing the contours of her face with his fingertips. Kisses along her jawline, runs his lips down the column of her throat, over her delicate collarbone, her breast (of course, he doesn’t forget to flick her nipple with his tongue just as she likes it), her hip, before he settles his mouth on her inner thigh. His touch is maddeningly light, and Elena throws back her head, breathing heavily.

“That’s not what I asked you to do.”

“It is,” he argues, and then she feels his fangs on her skin. He doesn’t strike yet, opting for kisses instead, maybe to give her time to get used to the idea. Or maybe (probably) just to drive her mad with anticipation, because he’s a jerk. She’s already opened her mouth to say something when his fangs pierce her skin and he pulls her blood, running his tongue over the puncture marks. She gasps, mouth open in a silent scream.

He doesn’t take much – Elena doesn’t need him to, because another pull has her moaning, and then another and one more, and she’s coming, legs shaking so hard that she slumps down, not trusting them to hold her upright any more. Damon cups her face with one hand, and she grabs it, biting into his wrist. 

His blood is delicious, the taste strange and familiar at once, like something she used to know, like something that used to belong to _her_. Pulling his blood, she feels surprisingly comfortable, almost like she’s curled up in her bed with her teddy bear, or like she’s just woken up next to him and can indulge in watching him sleep for a moment.

It tastes of love.

Her first instinct is to recoil, run away and never look back, because it’s too much. Too sweet. Too strong. Too Damon.

On second thought, Elena finds it thrilling.

She can stay switched off as long as she likes. She doesn’t need to love anyone, least of all Damon. His love will be enough for both of them, she can taste it. She won’t lose him. He won’t leave her. He likes her even now, just the way she is.

When she pulls back, the void is still there, but it doesn’t bother her any more.

She licks the wound clean and leans in to kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Thanks for the sex,” she says as she stands up and leaves the shower without looking back.

She lies down on her stomach, not bothering to cover herself. By the time Damon comes back to the room (he’s probably been busy picking up and folding her clothes), she pretends she’s sleeping. Pretends well, not like when she was human.

She half expects him to go to one of the guest rooms. Instead, he covers her with a comforter, tucking it the way she’s used to, and lies down beside her.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up to find him caressing her cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by: feedmyflame <3 Thank you, dear <3


End file.
